


i've got dreams that might not come to any fruitition

by moonginn



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: EXCESSIVE pizza delivery, M/M, its just an ezra furman lyric we r good, lots a pizza, title is super serious its literally just about babe being desperate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonginn/pseuds/moonginn
Summary: babe's obsessed with the hot pizza delivery guy.
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Eugene Roe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31
Collections: Serverversary (say that 5 times fast)





	i've got dreams that might not come to any fruitition

“Babe, get it,” Frank yelled over the blaring TV he had turned up earlier in the night to hear the royal family conspiracy better. Babe didn’t appreciate it. 

“It’s not even my turn to get it though!” Babe complained; he had enough of Perconte’s bullshit. He was going to sit his ass on the couch and stay there and watch the damn Conspiracies re-run whether Perco let him or not.

“You’re the one who ordered it!” He couldn’t deny that. He had a point. The infuriating little man had done it again.

A small “Fuck off” was muttered from him before Babe rose from his very comfortable seat on the couch he had been occupying for the past near hour and a half (he had to piss, drinking a litre of juice in one sitting is a bad idea he should’ve acknowledged) that had now formed a Babe’s ass-shaped dip in it and walked through the small flat to open the ugly beige door, not bothering to look through the peephole to see who it was. Thankfully the new pizza guy from Domino’s had the basic common decency to not ring their flat’s buzzer for a whole minute straight like their regular one from Pizza Hut (fuck you, Kyle from Pizza Hut.) and had stopped after a short press to the buzzer. He could hear Guarnere and Perconte arguing (debating, they’d say) over the Pearl Harbor coverup in the next room as he opened the bulky, creaky door to the most beautiful guy he’d ever seen.

Yeah, he requested them to send their hottest worker because he was slightly irritated that Guarnere made him order and just the slightest bit bored, but he didn’t expect them to fulfill the pitiful request, nonetheless so perfectly.

“Extravaganzza pizza for… Mr. Babe?”

“That’s me.”

“You know, I don’t get why people like you do this kind of stuff. It’s not funny, and I’m just so tired that even you calling yourself Mr. Babe doesn’t cheer me up. I’m a med student, did you know? I barely get any sleep. You have to be real unfunny to not get a laugh out of me, I’m nearly so disillusioned anything appears funny to me. And, well, at least Spina designating me “hottest employee” cheered me up. If I’d at least slept more then maybe stuff like this would spice up my job, but it doesn’t. I have an anatomy midterm next week. And I’m giving a very obviously overconfident or just plain bored out of his mind enough to call himself Mr. Babe ginger an Extravaganzza pizza. Who even gets Extravaganzza pizzas? It tastes like shit.”

“My name is Babe. It’s a nickname. And I’m sorry about your anatomy final. Do you want to come in and take a nap? It sounds creepy, but I feel really bad for you, man. Do you want some water? An ibuprofen?”

Beautiful med student closed the flat door. Babe hadn’t even given him the money. The door opened. Babe handed him the money.

The door closed.

A long, long week later, he was actually bored out of his mind (not just having a Conspiracies marathon with Perco and avoiding his studying, thankyouverymuch), and decided it was time to ring up Beautiful Pizza Guy once again and see his beautiful pizza guy face and hear his beautiful pizza guy voice rant to him about whatever was bothering him this time.

It was an action he’d been planning and plotting since the first encounter he had had with him. He filled in his name and address, typed in ‘send your hottest worker’, and hit send with his highest hopes.

His request was not fulfilled.

To be fair, this pizza guy was also pretty hot - which is always subjective, so the poor, poor employee receiving his ridiculous repetitive requests couldn’t be sure which one he meant. Maybe it was a different guy’s shift tonight, maybe - Spike, was it? - wasn’t on the job right now. At least his address and name could have given it away? But no, it’d been a week and it’s a Domino’s pizza in Philly. Philly was big, Domino’s pizza was big, there was no way Spike could have remembered.

At least he had a pepperoni pizza now.

Perconte was getting suspicious about how much pizza was getting sent to his house as he usually never even ate pizza. To be fair, the whole situation was incredibly ridiculous, but who was he not to try?

He opted to try once again the coming Thursday. After all, that was the time when he last (and first) encountered Gorgeous Pizza Man. He’d probably be on his shift if it was regular, and he hoped it was. 

Why exactly he had become so deeply mesmerized with the Domino’s pizza employee 15 minutes from his house was a complete and utter mystery to him. Yes, he was ridiculously pretty, and had a very nice voice, and was evidently incredibly intelligent considering he was a medical student, but that wasn’t enough for him to get hooked on someone. It took him months to realise his feelings for his last boyfriend, Julian, - he didn’t know if that was due to his dumbassery, incompetence, or unwillingness to admit any feelings - and this stranger went on a rant to him and stole his heart, one after the other. 

He pulled up the tab for the Domino’s pizza ordering site and started filling it out as per usual: Name: Babe. Address: 1200 Washington Ave, Philadelphia. Order: Hawaiian. Special requests: send your hottest worker.

Babe was once again met with devastating disappointment. An even less hot pizza guy stood at his doorstep with a below-average Domino’s pizza that was rapidly getting cold before his eyes. His ugly Domino’s uniform fit him poorly and his greasy dark brown hair appeared to be probably cut at SuperCuts for an exceptional 7 dollars, and he was most definitely not the Charming Pizza Dude from before.

Now Guarnere and Perconte both were on his back about the excessive pizza delivery. Every time he ordered one they somehow found out about it - being from an empty pizza box or a different mediocre looking pizza boy at his doorstep. They were, quite frankly, absolutely perplexed. His aforementioned former lack of pizza buying was suspicious. There was no reason that he should be buying this much pizza and Babe refused to let them in on his very embarrassing situation.

He decided to give it one more seemingly futile shot. He was growing a bit (understatement) desperate and needed to find the original pizza man. The wonky keys on his old laptop clanked against his fingers as he typed out his credentials for what he told himself would be the very last time, and then: “send your hottest worker. please.”

It was the second most embarrassing thing he’d ever done, the first most embarrassing thing he’d ever done intentionally, but he’d be damned if he didn’t find the marvelous stranger, and soon.

It didn’t work.

Another average guy with a choppy dirty blonde haircut, bad posture, and a poorly-grown, patchy half-neckbeard who looked to be about 17 years old was settled on the first step in front of the horrendous flat door. He could cry.

The cold Buffalo pizza couldn’t soothe his broken heart.

He stopped ordering from Domino’s. Their pizza was shitty and cold and tasted like wet, sandy cardboard with kraft cheese draped over it and his glorious Prince Charming pizza guy couldn’t come to his aide.

December 16th was not a pleasant day for Babe. 

His alarm failed to go off that morning, so he knew, from the millions of shitty romcoms he’d watched before, that the alarm would be just the start of an awful day for him. Surely, though, he could trudge through it and get a drop of sweet, sweet serotonin to his brain after seeing his friends. Fortunately, he did, and the day went as planned: classes, study at the library, go out with the boys, then come back to his flat and study again. Everyone was there: Perco, Guarnere, Toye, even Lieb and his boyfriend (?), Webster tagged along with him to go to their designated hangout spot, a local pizza shop that served magnificent pizzas with pools of grease and massive, crispy pepperoni slices and a variety of options with various fruits on them they wouldn’t find anywhere else. To top it all off, it was cheap. A college student’s pure dream. They ordered two pizzas (they were relatively small, and it was Friday after midterm week. They could splurge a bit.) He took one slice of the thick crust and the cheese stretched from the centre of the pizza: he knew it’d be a relief to take a bite of it. It was miles away from the damp floury taste of the pizza he’d been ordering from Domino’s, or Pizza Hut, or Papa John’s.

Babe was starting to think he ate a little too much pizza.

After an hour and a half chatting about school fading into laughing about past mishappenings (Babe finally told them the awful story of the pizza boy he had the hots for) melting into exchanging their best pickup lines (Perco refused to share his - he said it was too good and it was hard enough for him to pick up chicks anyway), they made the terribly difficult decision to get up off their asses and leave the pizza place. Leaving a big tip - they liked the hosts and always wished they’d accept them as “regulars” - they started walking the winding road back to their respective flats or dormitories.

But then: a car. A black car. Frank walking. Frank walking. Frank walking into the car. The car running into Frank. Screaming.

Shit.

The ambulance rushed him to the nearest hospital as fast as they could. The driver apologised profusely. He said he’d pay for all the medical bills and he was sorry, so sorry, so very sorry.

It didn’t help Frank any. It didn’t do much but lift the financial burden off Frank’s shoulders. It didn’t erase the picture of Frank getting hit by a car in front of them.

At least Frank was going to be okay.

Out of sheer dumb luck, all he had was a cleanly fractured leg, a dislocated shoulder, and a few broken toes. For all that Perco was a dramatic little bitch, he didn’t get mad at the driver. All he said to him was a short statement: “Hey, if you’re paying the medical bills, you got nothing to be sorry for.” The driver, Drew, thanked him to no end (until Liebgott and Perconte told him to shut up, of course) and stayed with the gang the entire time.

A few doctors and nurses and an assortment of medical students around their age entered his room over the next few hours, and this is where Babe saw Absolutely Devastatingly Handsome and Angel-Voiced Pizza Boy once again. 

He was standing with 3 other medical students, holding a notepad and shining silver metal pen, and when he looked up and saw Babe’s bright ginger hair and roaming eyes he went slack-jawed. Babe looked up at the group of students and when he saw the other he, embarrassingly, near-shouted.

“Ay, pizza guy!”

His voice was louder than he expected and he definitely did not mean to say that out loud. Now all the pairs of eyes were fixated on him, sitting in a chair next to Perco’s bed. 

Oops.

“Babe, what the fuck are you on about?” Perconte’s squeaky voice cut through the tension-heavy moments of silence before the pizza boy-med student talked. 

“Huh?”

It wasn’t exactly what Babe imagined their second encounter to be, but that was how the world works, he supposed.

“You’re the pizza guy who was complainin’ to me a few Thursdays ago, right? Givin’ me an Extravaganzza?”

“Heffron. Stop harassing the pizza guy.” Webster’s annoying voice was stern and steady, but irritated.

“I’m not harassin’ ‘im! What’s your name?”

“Eugene Roe.” The reply came lazily albeit a bit confused,

“See? He’s responding. It’s not harassment. Hey, I just wanted to tell you you’re really pretty, do you want to go on a date sometime?”

“Uh, sure? Yeah. Okay.”

“Oh.”

Babe had gotten a sudden burst of confidence he didn’t know the origins of. Defying Webster was his first priority, always, and he didn’t really think of the fact he was asking someone out on a date. He hadn’t been on a date in months, what the fuck was he going to do? He didn’t even expect a response, let alone a yes. (Well, a sureyeahokay, but it’s basically the same.)

A deep accented voice letting out a, “What’s yours?” awoke him from his inner monologue daydream and startled him from utter confusion about what this Eugene Roe was talking about.

“Huh?” was the enormously intelligent response that came.

“What’s your name.”

“Babe. Heffron. Technically Edward Heffron, but no one calls me that, not even my mom, and only the nuns at my old Catholic school called me Edward, so you can just call me B-”

“Edward. Nice.”

Babe let out a deep sigh. Even his name sounded nice in Eugene Roe’s mouth.

Perconte was sufficiently annoyed with the scene Babe caused, especially because he himself was not getting any dates (despite his insistence that his aforementioned pick up lines worked like a charm) and especially especially because he just wanted the doctors to check up on him and finally let him go from this hell place hospital because every minute being hospitalized would be costing him ridiculous amounts of money.

Additionally, the other med students were snickering among themselves (Babe just knew that Eugene would be taunted for this later and he felt the tiniest ounce of guilt) and the doctor leading them appeared monstrously irritated. 

After Perco was checked up on one last time, they finally released him from the hospital with a heavy cast on his left leg. 

Babe stayed behind to talk to Roe. 

“Hey, sorry about before. I just wanted to know if you’re serious about the whole date thing? If not, it’s perfectly fine, it’s understandable, but I really hope you are, because you’re really good looking and from what I’ve seen of your personality it’s amazing, and you’re obviously hard-working and intelligent, so I’d love to go on a date with you, but you don’t know anything about me, so it’s okay if you don’t want to, I guess.”

“Chill. Dates are supposed to be about getting to know each other.”

Perfect. Babe now had a date set with the most gorgeous man on planet Earth and Perco was okay and he could stop wandering over to the phone and dialling up the shitty Domino’s pizza in hopes he could find Roe and his finals were over and everything was good.

Roe was good, Roe was kind hearted and gorgeous and brilliant. He would be okay.

Of course, his first date with Roe had to be a pizza place. It was only what made sense.

Later, he’d order pizza on days when Gene was on his shift to cheer him up. The orders were getting stranger and stranger - he put an apple on a pizza once. Roe refused to deliver it to him. Babe was finally more than content after a long time. He was happy. He had pizza and he had a boyfriend and he had Perco and Guarnere and everyone else and Conspiracies reruns on Viasat. Life was good as his pizza.


End file.
